Secret Keepers
by vivalablond
Summary: It's three days after Katniss's reaping. Gale and Madge unexpectedly share a moment of commemoration one cold night.
1. Don't Tell Anyone

Gale approaches the tall, oak door and knocks on it softly. He takes in the cold night air with a sharp breath and looks up at the star-laced sky, wondering if the stars are that bright in the Capitol. He figures Katniss is probably asleep now, in some warm and luxurious bed in an air conditioned room. He knows it's late, but the Undersees are still expecting their strawberries like they do every week. Life had to go on, he realized the day after the reaping, when he went hunting that morning and Katniss wasn't there beside him. He had to try and continue on with his daily routines. His family depended on him.

The door opens and reveals a surprised looking Madge, her golden hair cascading in waves behind her shoulders, blue eyes wide and teary, as if she'd just been crying. He hopes his eyes don't look the same.

"Oh, I didn't think that..." she mumbles. She doesn't have to say the rest. He understands. This year's reaping had shocked everyone so much that people were still struggling to continue on with their ordinary lives. Madge certainly hadn't expected Gale to show up at her doorstep after his best friend had been picked nearly three days ago. She figured he'd have more important things to worry about now than bringing her family strawberries.

"Why wouldn't I come? I'm here every week." he growls, holding out the basket to her. He's a man of his word, isn't he? She bites her lip as she stares at it. He wonders why she's hesitating to take it.

"Come inside for a sec..." she says, opening the door a bit wider. She disappears back into the house before he gives an answer. After a moment of confusion and uncertainty, he follows her inside, not knowing what else to do and certainly not wanting to spend more time than he has to in the frigid air. He shuts the door behind him quietly and holds his breath. Madge vanishes behind some corridor and he stands there, gaping at his surroundings. The tidy house is warmly lit and fancy carpets string the walls and floors. There's a beautiful piano in the corner of their living room with a vase of marigolds on top. There's sheet music out and he knows she'd been playing earlier that day. He wonders what her piano-playing sounds like.

_So...this is the world you come from, Madgy-Madge.  
><em>

There's utter silence in the house and it unnerves him. He's so used to hearing constant chatter, his mother shouting over everyone to quiet them all down, Posy crying, his brothers joking around and laughing...He looks about the room, wondering where Mayor Undersee and his sickly wife are tonight.

Madge enters the room again with some peculiar items in her hands.

"My parents are at a meeting. They won't be home until much later." she tells him, reading his thoughts.

Gale doesn't reply. He stares at her listlessly, still unsure about why she's asked him to come in. She's wearing a plain, blue, cotton dress that Posy would die for. He wishes with all his heart that he could be able to give his sister something like that one day, but he knows that's never going to happen. Madge approaches him slowly, her eyes glued to the items she's holding.

"I wanted to ask if you could...well, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, for you to give these to the Everdeens."

Gale sees a smooth, pink ribbon in her left hand.

"This goes to Prim." she says, holding out the ribbon. He blinks at her.

She puts it in his free hand. He stares at it, feeling how soft and sleek it is in-between his coarse fingertips.

In the other hand, she's holding a small bundle.

"This is some leftover fruitcake that I had made last night. Mrs. Everdeen's probably got more things to worry about than cooking, what with Katniss..." her voice drops. She doesn't dare to say more.

At the mention of her name, he bristles, like he used to do when people whispered about his father after his tragic death, trying to keep Gale from overhearing their gossip. His jaw stiffens and he narrows his eyes on the bundle, gritting his teeth. She takes the basket of strawberries from him and puts the bundle in his hand instead. He gets a strange shiver down his spine when her warm fingers briefly touch his own icy ones. She slips a few coins into the pocket of his tattered jacket and sets the strawberries on the kitchen table.

"That's uh," Gale clears his throat, but the words still come out low and rough. "That's real nice of you, Undersee."

She shrugs off the compliment like an uncomfortable coat.

_This whole "being polite" thing is going to be the death of me, I swear. But Katniss insisted that I try more..._

"I'll give these to 'em." He swallows, hoping she'll let him go now because he's itching to get out. It's a little too warm in here for his liking.

She stares at him for a moment as he stands there, looking at the what he's holding and avoiding eye contact. He's already dreading the moment he'll have to go over to the Everdeens and greet those dejected, hopeless eyes, mirroring the same pain he feels inside. His mind goes off imagining the unfortunate scenario, forgetting that Madge is even in the room.

"Gale?" she gently speaks his name.

He jerks out of his momentary distraction and looks up to see that she's now standing right in front of him, a worried look on her face. He lifts his brows. _What? What else do you want from me?  
><em>

She bites that poor bottom lip of hers and, before he knows what's happening, she's reaching her slender arms around his neck and is pulling him into an embrace. He stands stiffly, his mind reeling. _What on earth is this __crazy girl doing?_

Her hand tentatively rubs his back and shoulder blade in what he guesses to be her way of comforting him. He doesn't understand what she's doing and is ready to push her away when she whispers,

"She's going to make it, Gale. It's going to be okay."

It takes him a second to realize who she's talking about.

"She's going to survive." Madge whispers into his neck, her breath hot on his skin, letting out her own supressed sorrow.

Gale freezes. He tries his best to hold back a shudder. He'd convinced himself he'd done an excellent job of hiding his concern and worry for Katniss. Madge somehow happened to see straight through his guise. It's his turn to bite his lip as he decides what to do.

This is the only time, he's promises, that he will let himself do this.

He slowly wraps his arms around her back and relaxes into her embrace. He lets all of his worries come to the forefront of his mind, thoughts he's tried his best to push back. Images of Katniss getting stabbed, shot, beaten, burned, eaten alive... all gruesome images that flash before him endlessly.

"Shhh..." Again, Madge seems to sense what's going on in his distraught head as she rubs his back some more. "She'll come back to us."

He doesn't get frightened all too easily, but her psychic abilities are seriously starting to scare him.

"All we can do at this point is hang on to hope." her voice cracks in his ear.

He tightens his hold on her because he can't help everything he's been bottling up from finally spilling out. Because he desperately wants to believe what Madge is saying. Because he imagines this as that last time he got to hug Katniss before the peacekeepers brutally took her away from him and he never really got a chance to say a proper goodbye. And because Madge feels warm and welcoming and Katniss had never really been the affectionate sort and would definitely never allow him to hug her like this.

The scent of her shampoo drifts up to his nose, something sweet resembling the smell of the flowers in the meadow. The tips of her long hair brush against his hands and her shaky breath continues to tickle his neck. He won't admit it to himself, but if feels good to hold her...even though this _is_ Madge Undersee. The mere mention of her name should be arousing some sense of hostility, but he can't seem to gather enough to help him out at the moment.

As she lets go and takes a step back, he thinks he hears a quiet sniffle. Sure enough, she quickly swipes at the corner of her eye and struggles to put on a small smile. He forgets that Katniss is _her_ friend, too. It's good knowing he's not the only one carrying this burdensome grief and worry around.

"You should probably be heading home now," she mumbles, walking towards the door. "I won't keep you any longer, I promise."

As they stand before the opened door, looking out at the cold night, he turns and says, "Thanks."

He doesn't need to say what for. She understands.

"No problem." she smiles shyly.

He steps out on the small porch, bracing himself for the trek back home.

"Oh, and Gale?" she calls out before he's gotten very far. He turns around to look at her. She's biting her lip again and he swears, if she does that one more time...

"Don't tell them where you got those things."

He looks at her as she clutches the sides of her dress, leaning against the frame of the doorway as a cool breeze ruffles the ends of her hair.

"Okay." he finally says after he's permanently etched the image of her into his brain.

He takes a few more steps, but turns around again.

"And Madge?" he calls just before she's shut the door. She looks at him.

"Don't tell anyone about...this."

She nods and smiles because he's called her Madge for the first time. And even if they think they have nothing in common with each other, they've just become each others secret keepers. And that's enough.


	2. The Element Of Surprise

A week has gone by. He doesn't know why, but he's extremely hesitant to approach her door. He's carrying her strawberries, but he isn't ready to deliver them quite yet. He doesn't know what he'll say when she opens the door. He doesn't know if he'll be able to look her in the eye after his brief breakdown a week ago. No one's seen him like that. Not his family. Not even Katniss. He usually never allows himself to show any weakness. It didn't occur to him, however, that, by baring his heart out to Madge as she simultaneously did the same, he was opening himself up for blackmail and ridicule. Not that he ever thought she _would_ tell anyone or ever use it against him in any way,...but just knowing that she _could,_ set him on edge. Just knowing that she'd seen when he was at such a low point made him uneasy. He's uncomfortable with the idea of anyone having an advantage over him.

He shakes his head in an attempt to clear it.

Why is he letting one night, one girl get such a hold over him? He braces himself and walks towards her door. He's brought with him the element of surprise. She always expects him late in the evening, but he's carved himself time in the afternoon to make an early stop before he goes to the Hob to do his usual trading. She won't know it's him at door...he hopes.

As he approaches the door, he hears a faint melody that grows louder as he gets closer. It's a strange sound, one he's not too familiar with. It's quick and light, filling the air with happiness. He wonders if the Undersees are actually rich enough to afford a record player. He waits for a moment in front of her door, listening. He scoffs. Why wouldn't they have one? They're rich enough to have a full piano in their living room. As the melody slows down, it suddenly hits him. This isn't a record playing.

The sound lulls for a moment and takes on a different tone, something more melancholy.  
>She's playing the piano, he realizes.<br>He leans his forehead against the door and rests a palm on the oak, straining to hear.  
>The notes are slow, the chords are deep and resounding. As she hits notes in the higher octaves, he imagines her slender fingers perfectly coiled and curved, brushing the ebony and ivory of the keys. She plays a sad, heart-wrenching tune. It's almost as if she's singing to him, through the piano. Her voice calls out to him from behind the door, whispering forlorn secrets and singing strange mysteries. The gradual melody slowly twirls through the thick morning air, playing with the sunlight, wrapping itself around his cold heart, painfully piercing through it. He winces as her chords grow fuller and deeper, tearing apart his soul.<p>

He's never played a note in his life, hasn't even touched an instrument. But he feels each wave of sound resound in his bones as Madge continues to play her song. He knows that Katniss can sing, although she's never sung for _him_. He'd beg for a song all the time and she'd always refuse. But now he knows. He knows that nothing, not even Katniss's voice (however good people say it is), can compare to Madge's playing.

Her whole life plays out before him. Every emotion she's ever felt, expressed through that spell-binding piano. He can listen to her play for hours and hours and that still wouldn't be enough. He doesn't know how long he's been standing out there, but he doesn't care. Something tells him she's been playing off of sheet music this whole time. It astounds him how much creativity a person can have.

A million questions come to his mind and he realizes everything he thinks he knows about Madge amounts to nothing. How can such beautiful music come out of someone like..._Madge Undersee_, the rich mayor's daughter? How long has she been playing? What other songs does she know? Where does her inspiration come from? He never knew that music had the ability to both rip apart and bind together the very fragments of his being.

The music stops suddenly and he almost drops the strawberries. He stands, immobilized, silently breathing. He hears a stranger's voice coming from inside the house. He presses his ear against the door, struggling to make out the words.

"...and turn down that racket. It's giving me a headache." The voice belongs to an older female.

"Yes, mom." He easily recognizes Madge's soft voice, which has it's own musical element to it.

"Bring me my medicine!" He hears the voice shout again. He waits for a sound, but the house remains quiet. He guesses that Madge has gone to attend to her sick mother. He shakes his head. What kind of a person would ever tell her to stop playing? They'd have to be absolutely heartless. _It's almost a crime_.

He feels an unexpected onset of deep pity for Madge. Looking down at the strawberries, he bends down and places them on her doorstep. This is his gift to her, a repayment for the personal, private concert that she's given him. It's hardly compensation enough, but it's the best he can do.

_Thank you, Madge._ He looks up at the clear blue, morning sky and smiles, the melody still resonating in his head as if she'd never stopped playing. He hasn't had a reason to smile in a long, long time.


	3. The Taste Of Strawberries

He's almost to his house. The sun begins to set behind the thick forest of evergreens, spilling a lavender hue across the sky. He hums what he remembers of Madge's piano playing that morning as he walks the dangerous streets of his neighborhood, her song keeping him company. The rest of his day had gone better than normal. He'd caught five jackrabbits with his snares and was able to trade three of them for a few vegetables and potatoes. Hopefully, his mom would be able to make some soup for them tonight. He can't remember the last time they had soup...

_Looks like you're my good-luck charm, Madge._

Just when his house is within eyesight, he sees someone else approaching his door.

_Well, would'ya speak of the devil..._

He stops in his tracks, only a few feet away, watching Madge as she arrives at his door before he does. She has no clue he's right behind her as she lifts her fist to knock on the door. She pauses for a moment, withdrawing her hand, biting her knuckles. She looks so uncertain, almost afraid. He wonders why. Just when it looks like she's changed her mind and is about to leave, he decides to come forward.

"Hey." he calls to her, hoping he doesn't scare her. No such luck. She lets out a gasp, turning around sharply, jumping out of her skin when she sees him.

He comes closer to his door, waiting to hear an explanation for why she's come here.

"How do you know where I live?" he asks the question that's forefront in his mind.

She avoids eye contact and commences to bite her lip. He flinches involuntarily.

_ She really needs to stop doing that._

"Um...well, my father has a map of the district, all the neighborhoods and everything...every house is listed by the owner's last name and..." she starts to stutter, trying her best to explain. "Actually, I shouldn't have told you that, you're not supposed to know..." she mumbles.

"What are you doing here?" he interrupts, hoping he's not coming off as rude or anything, but he's more than curious to know.

"I wanted to pay you." she replies, standing up tall and looking him square in the face with those bright blue eyes of hers. His memory momentarily lapses.

"For what?" he asks.

"For the strawberries. I saw them earlier today when I was taking out the trash. You left them on the doorstep. I didn't hear a knock or anything from you when you stopped by..." Now it's her turn to stare at him, waiting for some sort of explanation.

_Oh boy, how am I going to get myself out of this one?_

His mind whirls with made-up excuses. He decides it's better to just tell the truth.

"You were playing the piano and I didn't want to bother you." he admits.

"Bother me? Gale," he doesn't know why, but he loves it when she says his name. "Gale, nothing's free here in District 12. I know you go through a lot to pick those strawberries and I know you expect proper payment."

She stops for a moment, realizing his previous statement.

"Wait, you heard me playing the piano?" she suddenly seems slightly embarrassed and timid.

"Yeah. You..." he takes in a deep breath, as if what he's about to say next will be physically painful. "You're amazingly talented, Undersee. Honestly." He smiles when she blushes. He's not in the habit of lying to people and would rather just tell her what he thinks. "And I _really_ don't go through a lot of trouble. There's this strawberry bush right outside the fence, by this stream, and..." He points to show her and then drops his hand. "Well, just trust me. It's not much trouble. The only difficulty is taking that risk to sneak out past the city limits."

Her eyes drift past him, studying the forest as if trying to make out the exact strawberry bush he's describing. She looks back up at him, reaching for his hand.

"It still doesn't seem fair..." He looks down to see what she's doing when he realizes she's about to place some coins into his hand. He quickly withdraws it.

She reaches once more, attempting to grab his wrist.

"Gale, I'd really like to repay you-"

"No, it's alright, you don't have to-"

After a few of her tries as he swiftly alludes her, Madge gives up.

"Why? Why are you not letting me pay you back? It just doesn't feel fair. Nothing's free." She crosses her arms, furrowing her brows.

He likes how easily upset and pouty she can get.

"Think of it as a repayment for your gifts to the Everdeens last week." he makes her recall the situation.

She stares at him, frozen where she's standing.

"So, you _won't_ let me pay you?" She wants to make sure. He shakes his head. She opens up her palm and looks at the coins there, biting her lip once again as she contemplates.

"Madge..." he can't ignore it any longer. She looks at him. "Don't...bite your lip." he begs.

"Why?" she asks. The sun has already set completely and the street lamps turn on, lighting her face in the dark. He remembers the night she embraced him, how it felt to hold her, to smell her. He takes a step closer, holding her gaze. Tentatively, he lifts his hand and barely brushes her bottom lip with his coarse fingertips. Her mouth twitches ever so slightly and a strange sensation creeps up his arm. He has no clue what he's doing all of a sudden. But he can't bring himself to step away from her.

"It's just..." He doesn't know how to explain and is at a loss for words. His hand lightly cups her chin. The tip of his finger catches the rhythm of her quickening pulse. He looks at her full, pink mouth. How perfect this opportunity would be... He takes in a sharp breath.

"I'll stop." she says suddenly, breaking him out of his unusual trance. She takes a tiny step back. "I won't do it again, I promise."she whispers.

He blinks at her.

"I'll-I'll see you later, Gale." she says hurriedly, turning on her heels, walking away briskly.

He rubs his forehead, struggling to break out of his haze, as he watches her go.

_Oh_, _God. What on earth just happened?_

He thinks it probably would've been a good idea to walk her home to make sure she got there safely, but she's so far ahead of him now, there's no way she would stop if he called after her. He isn't sure he wants to at this moment, anyway. What is this immediate, inexplicable attraction he has towards Madge? He doesn't remember how this began to form...

He takes a moment to collect himself before he goes inside, brushing away images of her beautiful face in front of him lit up by the dim yellow light of the street lamp, trying to ignore this strange, yet strong desire to know what her lips taste like.

_They probably taste of strawberries._


	4. Slipping Away

He thought he could take it. He thought he had mentally prepared himself to handle watching Katniss compete. But he can't. That first second, when they sprinted towards the cornucopia for supplies and she forgot to grab some water, was torturous. When she was running, away from everybody, trying to stay hidden, while others fought to the death elsewhere...others who could or would potentially kill her...It's all too much. He's not ready to see any of it. Now, his eyes remain involuntarily glued to the screen as he watches the flames dance, chasing after her, licking her heels. Her calf is scorched, but she hasn't noticed. She runs and runs, trying to beat the man-made fire in a deadly race. Cameras capture her terrified face from every angle, giving the audience shot after perfect shot, her fear almost tangible in the heavy air. He'd seen her scared a number of times before, but those were different kinds of fears. The fear of predators out in the woods or the fear of keeping her family alive. When Prim's name was called for the Reaping... But he's never, _ever_, seen her scared like this. And it's that terror in her eyes that sears his heart like a hot blade, splitting him in two. Anger wells up on the inside of him. Anger at the Games, at the Gamemakers, at the Capitol. Katniss is the toughest person he's ever known. And they're breaking her right before his eyes.

He doesn't care what the law says, if the peacekeepers will come after him, if he'll get arrested. He can't stand here anymore. He turns around and manages to slip through the rows of people surrounding him, drawing away from the enraptured crowd.

_Enjoy the show, you sick people._

He creeps away, walking until he can no longer hear the crackling fire and her gasps for air echoing from the ancient speakers. Leaning against a stiff oak tree, he draws in a deep breath that he hopes might relax him in some way. No such luck. He focuses his gaze on the fence that's always enclosed him, looking beyond at the open fields and forest stretching for miles and miles. He knows that's where he's always belonged. Out there, in the open and unknown.

"Are you okay?" A voice says behind him, a hand suddenly resting upon his shoulder. He jumps and turns to face Madge. He tries to calm his racing heart. Funny...he thought he'd become immune to surprises. Why does she always catch him off guard?

"I could've sworn I'd slipped away unnoticed." he looks past her, back at the crowd, hoping no one's seen them. "How'd you escape without your daddy knowing?" He doesn't mean for the slight resentment to creep into his voice. He notices a peacekeeper searching the crowd.

"I have my ways." He's not sure if she's being flirtatious or completely serious. He doesn't peg her for the coquettish type, she's too much like Katniss in that arena. Still, there's a slight undercurrent to her tone of voice and he's left wondering what sort of "ways" she means.

He catches a glimpse of someone approaching and instinctively grabs her by the arm, receding deep into a thicket of brush. She stumbles along with him, keeping quiet. They stay silent, staring at the incoming peacekeeper, who, having lost sight of them, scans the area and turns back.

He feels rather than hears Madge let out a sigh of relief. He still has a hold on her arm and she doesn't realize she's gripping his hand, her slender, piano-playing fingers wrapping themselves around his wrist. Something unfamiliar stirs inside him. Something he's never felt while he was around Katniss. He likes feeling like he can protect Madge from anything, likes knowing that she trusts him to keep her safe. Katniss was always strong enough to make out on her own and would never allow herself to depend on anyone, let alone _him_, for her personal safety.

Madge looks up at him with calm reverence and he swears he's never felt more like a man in his life.

"We should go back, before they find out we're gone." she whispers. He remembers the sight of fire and burning flesh.

"No. You go on ahead. I'll stay here." he replies, though he doesn't actually want her to leave. She doesn't. He feels slightly uncomfortable as she studies him, probably attempting to read his thoughts like she always does.

"I know you're worried about her. And I know it's hard to watch, but...you need to be there." she says firmly. "Don't you see? It's like we're there _with_ her, running alongside her, urging her on as she's trying to survive. I've always believed that people could send their thoughts to others, sort of like transferring brain waves. I know it sounds crazy, but I've been trying to send her some positive thoughts. Thoughts that can encourage and help her. I know she can win this thing."

He stares down at Madge, her words entrancing him. She could tell him anything and he'd believe it in a heartbeat. Maybe that's how she'd been able to read his mind. He'd unknowingly sent her his thoughts, transferring his so-called "brain waves" to her.

"I just...I can't, Madge. I can't watch her like that. She's like a helpless, broken animal being preyed upon. If Katniss does die, I don't want to remember her in her last moments like that." his voice shakes involuntarily and his gaze drops to the floor.

He feels warm hands on both of his cheeks, lifting his face up. He's shocked at the fiery expression in Madge's eyes.

"Neither do I. But have a little faith. You'll see. She'll pull through." The beautiful blonde-haired girl says with so much conviction it shames him. Who is he kidding? Protect _her_? She's stronger than he can ever hope to be.

As she drops her hands from his face, he grabs them and pulls them to his chest, leaning in a little.

"I hope you're right." He whispers. Prickling tears irritate his eyes, but he blinks them back furiously. He can't cry. Not now, not here. Not there, while watching his best friend struggle to survive on that huge screen. His voice drops in volume, until he's only just mouthing the words. "I hope you're right."

Madge interlaces her fingers with his and gives a small squeeze, her offer of strength. Her mouth forms a firm, straight line, but her eyes are alight with hope and faith. She's all that he has to hold on to. She's all that he has left to cling to.


	5. Untarnished

Careful not to wake his family, he shuts the door quietly behind him. The sky is midnight blue, hinting at the upcoming sunrise that is still a few hours away. He has his knapsack with him filled with traps and an apple. The air is crisp and fresh, a thin layer of coal dust covering the ground. It is only fresh like this just before sunrise, before the miners go out to work. He fills his lungs and lets out a long breath, trying not to think about the fact that he'll be joining those miners soon and will have to give up his hunting days.

He starts heading towards the field when he hears the sound of footsteps on gravel behind him. No one's usually up this early like him. He twists around to see if it's a Peacekeeper.

"Madge?"

She has a jacket wrapped around her tiny frame, a knitted hat covering her head. When she hears her name escape his mouth she smiles.

"Morning. I wasn't sure how early you got up to hunt so I was waiting outside your house." She reveals, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to keep warm.

Gale approaches her, a little confused.

"How long were you waiting for me?" he asks, taking her cold hands in his warm ones and giving them a good rub.

"About half an hour." she admits, shivering.

"God, you're cold all over. Why are you out here?" He places a palm on her icy cheek, shocked at how cold it is.

"I want you to take me to the woods with you." she states, excitement glimmering in her blue eyes.

He furrows his brows. It takes him less than a second to say firmly and somewhat harshly,

"No."

He drops his hand from her face and turns around to go.

"Why?" she grabs his arm, stopping him.

"It's too dangerous, Madge. Much too dangerous."

"But you and Katniss go out there all the time and you come back fine."

"I don't want to risk your safety." he says a bit more softly, staring at the soft tendrils of hair that have escaped from under her hat.

"I know that as long as I'm with you, nothing can harm to me." She looks up at him with mock admiration.

He knows she's sucking up. _But God, she's good. _

He lets out a chuckle, staring at her pale face. His smile slowly fades.

"I can't. You can't come with me." He's firm in his resolution.

"But why? I want... I want to see what it's like outside these walls. To feel for the first time what it's like to have no barriers around you, to be free...well, relatively speaking."

He watches her quietly as she gazes at the horizon behind him, her eyes aflame.

How can he make her understand? It's more than just enjoying the view that nature provides, which, he has to admit, is sometimes absolutely spectacular. He doesn't go because he wants to. He has no choice. It's a matter of survival. Madge has never _needed_ to go to the woods. He hopes she never gets to the point when she does.

He takes her hands in his, bringing her attention back to him. He examines her soft, white, musical fingers that haven't worked a day in their life. She is the one and only untarnished thing in his world, unaffected by the harshness and brutality that he's had to constantly deal with. He wants her to remain that way. For him.

As the sky paints itself light blue and lavender, she frowns at him and he wonders if she might be reading his thoughts again.

"I'm not some sort of princess, you know. I can handle things better than you think I can." she challenges him. He grins at her determination.

"Oh, I have no doubt about that." And he means it. "Maybe some other time, I'll bring you along." He's not entirely lying.

"Promise?" The word hangs dangerously in the air, firm and impregnable. _Promise..._He stares at those stubborn eyes, that unshakable look on her face, and leans in closer to steal a quick kiss from her mouth. That is, he had _meant_ for it to be quick and playful, practically meaningless. But once his lips touch her soft ones, he can't seem to bring himself to stop kissing her, his stomach churning violently inside. She's the one who ends up drawing back.

"Wha-...what was that for?" she stutters, her cheeks turning a faint pink. She unconsciously reaches up to touch her mouth, looking around to see if anyone had seen them.

His stomach turns into a violent storm as he watches her fingertips glide over the tender mouth he desperately wants to continue kissing.

"It's my promise." he answers, taking her hands in his. "I'll take you with me tomorrow morning. Before everyone goes to the square to watch the Games."

It's the first time he's seen her grin so widely and he's happy to be the cause of it.

She places a hand on the nape of his neck, drawing him closer as she stands on her tiptoes. Their lips meet again, tentative at first, but both adventurous, a new-found excitement blossoming inside the both of them.

As he crosses under the fence, the sun begins to rise and he can't keep a grin off his face.


	6. Forgiven

Clouds slowly roll across the sky and a balmy breeze ruffles his loose, frayed shirt. As he hikes up the hill, he sees her lying in the tall, yellow grass, looking up at the sky, patiently waiting for him.

Hearing him approach, she sits up on her elbows and smiles. He pauses for a moment to capture this picture of her in his heart forever. He smiles back, slinging his knapsack full of freshly killed pheasant off his shoulder, and sits down next to her. She lays back down and continues trying to make out all the different shapes that the clouds are creating. They don't exchange any words, letting a calm serenity take over for the first time in as long as either of them can remember. Golden fields stretch out endlessly before them with distant evergreens lining the horizon. He can spend eternity right here, right now.

"Hey, Gale?" she breathes out, voice soft as the wind, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Yeah?" he answers, turning to look at her and their eyes lock. Her eyes that mirror the bright blue of the sky.

"Tell me about your siblings." she requests.

_An odd thing to ask about..._ He furrows his brows, wondering why and what she wants to know.

"Well, you've seen them around, haven't you?"

"Of coarse I've _seen_ them. Doesn't mean I know any more about them." she insists.

He scratches the nape of his neck, thinking about where he should start.

"Well, there's uh...there's Rory. He's second oldest."

Madge rolls over onto her stomach and props her elbows up, resting her head on her fists.

"Do you guys spend much time together? Do you take him out here with you?" she asks eagerly.

He looks at her strangely, hesitating to answer. He's never really _talked_ about his siblings like this before.

"No...I don't want Rory out here. I don't want any of them out in the woods."

He eyes the horizon once more. Madge keeps her steady gaze on him, studying his strong profile. His mouth hardens as something comes up in his memory.

"There was this one time...Rory followed me and Katniss when we were going hunting one morning. He was sneaky about it too; we didn't even realize he was behind us until after we'd crossed under that broken part of the fence...He'd kept a safe distance and was just watching us, I guess. All the while, I had this sense that someone was following us and sure enough, when I glanced back, he was there, hiding behind a rotting tree trunk. Boy, was I angry at him that day..."

He keeps looking ahead, but her gaze never falters from his face.

"I don't really blame him, though. He's a curious sort of guy, always wanting to know things, always sneaking around places he shouldn't be. He does the best in school out of all of us. That's why I'm hoping he could further his education later on instead of becoming a miner."

He looks at her again, something firm in his eyes.

"He could really make something of himself, you know. I can see him becoming a teacher or something someday...But he doesn't believe he can be."

She can tell by the tone of his voice that he's finished talking about Rory.

"What about your other brother? Vick, is it?" she continues to ask after a momentary pause.

Again, he wonders why she wants to know so much about his family. He and Katniss spent hours of their mornings up on this hilltop, but there was never much conversation going on. He's not used to hearing the sound of his own voice so much. He's not used to the idea that someone wants to hear his thoughts, that his opinions actually matter to someone.

When he looks at Madge, her eyes bright and attentive, hungry for details, it suddenly dawns on him.

She doesn't have siblings.

She doesn't know how these familial relationships work.

Her dad's the mayor, so he must be away quite often, and her mother's always sick and in bed- or so he hears.

She doesn't know what it's like to wake up to teasing and belly-poking or have tickle fights well into the night. She doesn't know how it feels to have your little sister's head resting against your chest as you assure her that no monsters will creep into her bed, and if they do, you'll do your best to kill them off.  
>Posy, who loves to sing and annoy everyone all the time. Vick, who reminds him more and more of their dad everyday. Rory, with a soft spirit like their mother.<p>

They're all each other has. And Gale wouldn't trade that for the world.

He goes on to tell Madge about how good Vick is getting with their dad's old hunting knife and how Posy makes up a song for every chore she does around the house.

He can't help but smile as various memories flood his mind. When he thinks of Madge and how lonely her life must be, he realizes how lucky he is to have grown up with the people around him. Sure, his dad had died when he was young, but there is still plenty of great things to remember about the time they got to spend together.  
>He doubts Madge has as many good memories to share with her family.<p>

She faithfully listens to all he has to say, seeping in his words and memories, trying to make them her own. He feels a deep pity when he sees those slightly saddened eyes finally break away from his.

"Tell me about your family." he says softly. "I've always wanted to know what it's like to grow up as the mayor's kid."

She stares at the ground, biting her lip. He cringes and hopes he hasn't touched a wrong nerve.

"Yeah, I'm sure you've been wanting to know..." she says with a hint of sarcasm, probably remembering all those times he'd picked on her for belonging to a richer family.

He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. His heart aches with guilt. She lies on her back once more with her hands behind her head.

"Growing up in the mercantile class...it isn't all it's cracked up to be. I mean, sure, you get perks, but that doesn't substitute for friendship...and family. There are only a handful of us that are part of the higher class and we're shunned by all the rest of our jealous peers. But that doesn't bring us any closer. We secretly hate each other. Don't ask me why, but we do. The closest friend I've ever come to making was Katniss."

He watches her as she speaks, the way her eyelids flutter up and down as she blinks slowly, counts the number of times she licks her lips, how she brushes away parts of her hair from her eyes.

"...and you." she adds as an afterthought, looking up at him. He could swear his heart has stopped beating. He can't help but smile when those blue eyes look at him.

"Listen, Madge. I want to apologize for everything I've ever said to you in the past. I'm the biggest idiot on the planet, I honestly am." He takes in a breath. "...and I wasn't picking on you because I was jealous."

A tiny smile forms on her wonderful lips.

"Then why _did_ you pick on me?"

He feels his cheeks get hot and he can't believe he's about to admit this.

"Because you're the most beautiful girl I know." Her face immediately lights up and he laughs.

_This compliment-giving thing is becoming a lot easier..._

"I don't know, I've always wanted to believe that you mercantile kids were a bunch of stuck-up snobs. So, when I saw that you clearly weren't like that, that you were actually normal and intelligent, as well as good-looking...you broke through my stereotype. And I guess, for some reason, that didn't sit too well with me."

She gasps and closes her eyes, covering her face with her hands.

"Did Gale Hawthorne just admit that he likes me?" she mumbles through her palms.

He leans over her, gently removing her hands. She giggles and opens her eyes.

"I'd be crazy not to." he says seriously, holding her by the wrists.

She blinks at him.

"You didn't have to apologize." she says quietly.

"Yes, I did." he replies.

"Well, then. You're forgiven."

"Gee, thanks." he grins.

A warm breeze blows past them, causing the grass to bend and sway all around. Never in a million years would he have been able to predict that he'd be here, in the woods, _with Madge Undersee, of all people_, talking and sharing secrets under the warm sun. He doesn't know how he ended up here, but he doesn't want to be anywhere else.

"Kiss me." she whispers.

He doesn't know what brought them together, but he's not willing to question that too deeply at the moment.

"Gladly." He leans further down until his lips barely brush hers. Hanging there, he teases her until she lifts herself up slightly to cover the rest of the distance.


	7. Not In The Cards

_"Madge," her father whispered to her in his study, just before the Peacekeepers got there. "They can't know about our plans. They can't find out about District 13 or the rebels. I'm burning most of the evidence and hiding the rest. It's your duty to stay silent. Not a word. You're forbidden to talk with anyone."_

She hasn't seen Gale in over a week. The whole district has been thrown into chaos after Katniss and Peeta's suicidal attempt and subsequent win of the Games. Trains have been dropping off more and more Peacekeepers as the citizens of District 12 expect the return of their victors. People are being investigated and questioned every day and many have chosen to keep to themselves, avoiding contact with others to make themselves seem less suspicious. It's safer that way. It makes it easier to keep the Peacekeepers off their backs.

But her family has been under the closest of investigations. The Peacekeepers suspect that her father's part of an uprising and have stationed several guards at her house. She has two personal guards following her everywhere she goes now. They watch who she interacts with, what places she visits, everything she does. It's all closely monitored.

And she knows that Gale doesn't have a clue. She thinks about him everyday, thinks about that sunny afternoon they'd spent together in the field, the day when everyone watched the Hunger Games end with two winners. She had to vanish, disappear, abandon him. He doesn't know why, wouldn't understand. How could he? She owes him an explanation. She's probably hurt him and she hates herself for it. But there's nothing she can do now. Her safety and the safety of her family depends on her staying silent and isolated. _  
><em>

She tries to keep her mind busy, but still, her thoughts drift toward Gale and his stormy, grey eyes.

The night before Katniss and Peeta are supposed to arrive, they station only one Peacekeeper by her room. She waits until he falls fast asleep and manages to sneak outside through her bedroom window.

She plans to make her way over to the fence, crawl under, and find that strawberry bush that Gale had shown her. Just a few more strawberries. That's all she wants. That's what she's been craving. As she rounds the corner of her house, she bumps into someone in the dark.

It's Gale. She stands frozen, fear gripping her heart, as he stares back at her. He doesn't look any different; his brown hair disheveled as always and his arms bruised, covered in dirt. There are heavy bags under his eyes, something that was never there before. Neither of them say anything to each other.

She swallows and mutters, "excuse me", before attempting to move away. He catches her arm, stopping her. She struggles to free herself.

"Madge, wait..." He won't let her leave. His voice is quiet, harsh. She stops and stares into his eyes. Those wonderful, stormy eyes, full of quiet rage. He struggles to find words.

"Gale, I need to go..." she starts to say, breaking free of his grasp and stepping around him. She's being rude and it's against her nature, but this is the only way she knows how to distance herself away from him.

"What's going on, Madge?" he asks finally. The sound of his voice, something her ears have longed to hear. Her feet betray her and she can't bring herself to keep walking.

"What do you mean?" she replies innocently. She looks up and down the street, making sure they're alone.

"You know what I mean." He stares at her, walking closer. "Is there something wrong?" he asks a bit more softly. She avoids his gaze and bites her lip. He reaches to touch her elbow. "Did I do something?"

_Don't._

"Did I offend you somehow?"

_Don't go there. Please.  
><em>

"Did I overstep any boundaries with you? If I did, I'm sorry." he says tenderly.

His words melt her, break her heart. She wants him to know he did nothing wrong, needs to assure him that this isn't his fault. That he's been perfect. He is absolutely perfect. She closes her eyes tightly to keep back the tears and shakes her head.

"No..." she hesitates with her answer. "No, you haven't done anything."

"Then why are you avoiding me?" he asks.

"I'm not." she lies terribly, her voice shaking. She tries to leave again, but he grabs her hand, pulling her closer to him. She's startled by the sudden proximity.

"I've always been honest with you, Madge. I think I at least deserve some kind of answer." His voice is quiet. She knows he's right, wants to tell him everything.

His eyes pierce through her.

"I miss you." he admits weakly. "I need you in my life."

Before she can give a reply, he's kissing her. His fingers touch the back of her neck and she's frozen under his touch, lost in the trance he's put her in. He travels the familiar places of her mouth with a ferocity she isn't used to, proving just how much he's missed her. She forgets everything momentarily, forgets why on earth she's had to stay away from him in the first place, why she hasn't just explained everything to him...But something makes her come back to herself and she abruptly breaks away.

"Gale, I can't." she whispers. He takes a moment to catch his breath.

"What is it? Tell me." he demands.

She looks up at him, sees the concern in his eyes, and is ready to give up.

"My family's been under heavy investigation since Katniss and Peeta's little stunt. We're watched every second of the day."

"Why? What do they think is going on?" He grabs her arms.

"They think my father is involved in some sort of...uprising." she says, looking down. "I can't be around you anymore. They'd find out about your illegal hunting and trapping sooner or later. I don't want you to get into any trouble."

He takes in all of this information.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" he asks, brushing away a strand of hair as she continues to stare at the ground. "I was starting to think you hated me or something. So, we stay away from each other for a few days, maybe another week or so until the Peacekeepers leave, and then...And then, I can see you again."

It sounds so easy. So simple. But he's forgotten one little thing. The one thing that's haunted both of them. Her, most of all.

"What about Katniss?" Madge asks.

He furrows his brows and then a light shines in his eyes.

"She's survived just like you said she would. You must be some sort of psychic or something. You knew all along that she would make it." He smiles at her proudly.

"Yes, she's alive. And when she comes back...what'll happen?"

"What do you mean?" he asks. _Can he really not to know? It's so obvious to everyone. He and Katniss are so much better suited for each other. He cares about her. He doesn't know it, but he cares about her so much more than he does about..._

"I don't want you to feel...obligated or...tied to me in any way when she comes back. So,...maybe it's better that we end whatever we have here..."_  
><em>

"Madge." He makes sure she's looking up at him. "I don't plan on ending anything."

But she doesn't allow herself to believe him. Things will be different when Katniss returns tomorrow, she knows it. She doesn't want to stand in the way. She's always believed in fate, and her ending up with Gale is just...too good to be true. It's not in the cards. It never has been. They were just two people who happened to find solace and comfort in each other when circumstances were bleak. They were each others' secret keepers. That's all they ever would be.

"Well, I do." she replies. She kisses him tenderly one last time as her heart breaks inside. With Gale, she could be someone different, someone beautiful, exciting, interesting.

She walks away, back around to her bedroom window, leaving him alone in the dark. She returns as the same Madge she's always been: obedient, tame, resigned, ordinary, and placid. She crawls up, back into her room, into her bed, and cries herself to sleep for many nights afterward.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry this chapter took so long to put up. I was having the hardest time deciding how far I wanted their relationship to stray from the books. In the end, I decided to stick to the books. <strong>**This was supposed to be a small glimpse into what _might_'ve happened in the first book during Katniss' time in the Games.**** I love Gale and Madge together, but in this fanfic, they won't end up together, just like in the series. Unfortunate, I know. A lot of you will hate me for it, but that's how I saw their story ending. **

**Aside from that, I am so unbelievably grateful for all the amazing feedback I've been getting from all of you. Thank you sooo much! I appreciate every last comment.  
><strong>


	8. An Arrow To The Heart

They were going back into the Games. This unfortunate piece of news was a huge blow to everyone in the district. Especially to Gale.

As much as he doesn't want to let her go, Katniss leaves. And that same night he finds himself wandering the abandoned neighborhoods of his town, wondering how he'll get through all of this a second time when he'd barely survived the first, watching her suffer daily, wishing and hoping for her safety and well-being.

He carries with him a small bottle of liquor that he'd found stashed in his father's old cabinet drawer. He takes a swig of it as he leans against a tree. The liquid tastes like acid, burning his throat. But the pain distracts him from the tears streaming down his face. He doesn't drink normally and he never will again after tonight, but for now...he needs to forget. He needs to leave this place, this moment, at least mentally.

He had kissed her. He had held her. He promised himself he'd do everything to keep her safe when she returned. But now she is gone, taken from him once more. All because of some ridiculous rules created by President Snow & his pathetic attempt at revenge.

Gale feels so entirely helpless, so angry at the world he lives in, at President Snow, at the Capitol. He gulps down the rest of the alcohol and winces as it trickles down into the pit of his stomach. He makes a vow, dedicating himself to bringing down the Capitol. He imagines wrapping his hands around Snow's neck, squeezing tighter and tighter until...His mind fills with all the gruesome ways he can kill the hated dictator. Dismemberment. Torture. Whipping. Hanging. An arrow to the heart.

He feels an incredible rage take over him and it scares him. He stares down at the bottle in his hand and chucks it over a fence. What is he doing? What is he thinking? He's losing it. He's afraid he just might be going insane.

For the first time in a long time, he allows himself to think of Madge. He's buried thoughts and memories of her away in his heart weeks ago. It's all been too painful to remember since that terrible day when she walked away and broke both of their hearts.

Looking back now, he realizes he was searching for her in Katniss. When his best friend returned, he was overcome with happiness and could've sworn he'd loved her...but when he kissed her that one day, it felt strange. He couldn't understand why, until later. Until now. Kissing Katniss wasn't the same as kissing Madge. Holding Katniss wasn't the same as holding...

He needs Madge. He needs to see her. Hear her. Feel her.  
>He's losing his wits and she's the only one who can draw him back to reality.<p>

She's helped him through this before. Perhaps she can help him through it all again.

He stumbles to her house and sees the front porch light on. It's late, but the alcohol doesn't let him care. He knocks on the door and waits, rubbing his eyes to fight off his weariness.

He doesn't expect Mr. Undersee to suddenly open the door and stare at him like he's some kind of crazed animal.

"Mr. Hawthorne?" The Mayor asks gruffly. He's dressed in a dark blue robe and is wearing slippers.

_Crap. I just woke him up..._

Gale doesn't know how to explain himself. The effects of the alcohol wear off and he feels humiliated standing there, probably disturbing the Mayor's sleep.

"I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...um..." he stutters. "I didn't mean to bother you. I thought this was someone else's house. It's dark and I couldn't tell..."

Mr. Undersee furrows his brows and crosses his arms, staring at Gale. He feels some sort of pity for the poor guy and decides to let him off the hook.

"Alright...well, go back to your own place and get some rest, boy." He says, shutting the door.

Gale lets out a sigh of relief and turns around, beginning to walk away.

_What did I just do?..._

He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head.

_Stupid, stupid._

"Gale?"

He hears his name quietly called out. He turns around, squinting to see who it is.

A figure appears from the darkness and all at once he feels a million times better. All at once, all his problems melt away. He's saved.

"Madge." He smiles kindly. Oh, how he's missed the sight of her.

She breathes in sharply and then, after some hesitation, allows herself to smile back.


	9. Morphling

The abrupt knock wakes her up.

_Who could it be? And at this hour of the night..._

She slips on her night robe and walks out into the hallway, seeing her father already up and talking with someone at the doorway.

"Mr. Hawthorne?" her father asks, bewildered.

She gasps, despite herself.

_Gale? What on earth could he be doing here?_

She waits in the hallway, straining to hear as he stumbles through his words trying to make up some sort of excuse. But she knows he hasn't mistaken this house for someone else's. She knows he's here to see her. But _why_?

She waits until her father dismisses Gale and shuts the door. She hides in the shadows & watches as he goes back into his bedroom. Then, ever so quietly, she sneaks out the door and runs down her porch in search of Gale, hoping he hasn't gone too far.

_What am I doing? I should go back to bed..._

She spots him not too far off.

"Gale?" she calls out in a loud whisper, half-hoping he doesn't hear her and keeps walking. She realizes she's terrified of facing him after all this time.

But she's not lucky enough.

"Madge?" She watches as his face breaks out into a brilliant smile when he sees her. Her voice catches in her throat and all she can do is grin back shyly.

"What are you doing out here so late?" she can't help asking.

When he hesitates to answer, a thought suddenly comes to her.

"Does this have something to do with Katniss?" She gets her answer in the pained look in his eyes as he averts them to the ground.

_It has everything to do with Katniss..._

She surprises herself by feeling resentment instead of pity. She'll always come second place to Katniss. That's how it's been, that's how it always will be. And she deserves better than being treated like a punching bag. She wants the best of him, not the worst. She wants him in his happier moments, not only his most depressing ones. She wants to be the reason for his smile.

"So, that's why you sought me out..." she mutters under her breath. "That's my job, isn't it? To help you escape, to help you forget all your pain? All I am and all I'll ever be to you is morphling." Her voice gets louder in the night, seething with hot anger. Gale stares at her as if she's just transformed into a mutt before his eyes. "I'm tired of being your back-up plan when you can't seem to sort out your messed up life." She turns around and briskly walks away.

As Gale watches her leave, he suddenly feels disoriented. It's so hard to process what she'd just said, so hard to understand where all this pent up anger had come from and why he, apparently, was the cause of it. He's hurt her and he doesn't quite get how. That wasn't his intention in coming here.

One word from her speech sticks out to him: Morphling. His eyes widen.

"I know about the morphling." he calls out. She freezes in her tracks. He walks a few steps closer. "The night that I got whipped in the Square. You were there, weren't you? You saw all that happen?" Even with her back to him, he can see her shudder. "Katniss told me. It was snowing that day. Pretty hard, too."

"Gale, stop." Madge stays rigid, careful to keep her voice devoid of emotion. He comes closer.

"You trudged through the thickest snowfall District 12 has ever seen."

_Yeah, and I have a frostbitten pinky toe to prove it..._She tries to keep the memories from that night at bay. But he's making it too darn difficult.

"Why'd you do it Madge?" he asks behind her, closer now than she'd expected him to be.

"I didn't do anything." she tries to sound indifferent.

"...I can't tell you how much pain I felt that night. It was unlike anything I'd ever felt before..."

She winces involuntarily, remembering his unconscious form laying on Katniss' table when she dropped off the medicine.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you making me remember?" she whispers with her shaky breath.

"I think I might've died that night from all the pain, if it hadn't been for your morphling." He confides, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She shrugs it off.

"It was Katniss who nursed you back to health." She responds bitterly. He takes her by the shoulders and turns her around to face him.

"But it was you who saved my life."

His answer brings her a faint glimmer of hope. Maybe she isn't second place to Katniss. Maybe he _did_ end up feeling something for her after all.

That's when she smells the liquor on his breath.

"Gale...you've been drinking." she mumbles quietly, her heart sinking. She searches his empty, piteous eyes, trying to locate where he's hidden all his hurt. She has no idea how badly Katniss going back into the games is affecting him. "How have you been taking all this? How are you feeling?" she asks with all gentleness and care.

Her compassion hits a wrong nerve in him and he takes a step back, furrowing his brows.

"I don't want to talk about it. I didn't come here to discuss this." he says harshly.

"Then why did you come to me?"

He stares at the ground, kicking the dirt.

"Why did you drink tonight, Gale?" She asks more directly.

"Maybe it was like you said!" he blows up, tired of her pestering questions. "I need to escape! I...I need to forget."

He rubs his eyes, grimacing, shaking his head as if he's shaking painful thoughts away.

_So I was right all along. That's all I'm good for._

She can't take anymore and starts to walk away again.

"Madge, wait! I came here to see you-"

"It's been almost a year, Gale!" She spits back at him.

He pauses and looks at her, not getting what she's saying.

"It's been almost a year..." she repeats, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes wet with tears. And it is in her eyes that he sees what she's trying to communicate to him. They haven't spoken in almost a year. She wishes he would've come back. She's missed him.

He takes a step closer to her and then pauses, thinking some more.

"You...you were the one that pushed me away!" It's his turn to blame her. His words sting her and she turns her face away. He pulls her closer to himself. "Why? Why are you blaming me? What exactly are you accusing me of? Of not trying harder? You wouldn't let me! You ignored me, you brushed off every attempt I made. Yes, it _has_ been almost a year, and who's fault is that? Don't you dare tell me you missed me all this time, that you wanted me to come back...'

She stares at his face, so full of rage, knowing she deserves every hurtful word, and lets her tears fall.

"But I did." she breathes. "I do." He stares at her, trying to hold on to his anger, but it cools away as quickly as it came.

"How was I supposed to know that?" He begs with his imploring eyes.

"You weren't. You didn't know." She offers no further explanation. They can't make up for lost time.

He takes a moment to collect himself and gather his thoughts.

"Listen, Madge. I didn't come here to yell at you. I-I'm sorry." He places a hand on her cheek. She shuts her eyes to stop her tears. "I...I've missed you too. More than you could ever know."

Madge laughs bitterly.

"Yeah, that's why you came to me only after Katniss abandoned you, right?"

"Madge, please." She hears the vulnerability in his voice for the first time. She looks up at him. "Let's stop hurting each other. She's your friend too."

He turns his gaze to the floor.

"And this time, she definitely won't return. Not with Snow out to get her...I don't know if I'll be able to go through this again."

There it is. All the pain he's locked up inside beginning to come out.

"You've always been stronger than me. I...I need your strength to get me through. I need you to bring me back to reality because I'm honestly losing my mind." He admits, staring into her blue eyes. "That's the reason I came to see you tonight."

That's all the invitation she needs. She pulls him into a tight embrace, similar to the one they'd first shared.

He wraps his arms around her, burying his head into her sweet-smelling hair.

"I'm sorry." she whispers. "I'm sorry we haven't talked to each other in so long. I'm sorry I pushed you away."

She kisses his shoulder, taking in the scent of pine.

"I'm sorry for all the mean and hurtful things we said to one another."

She kisses his jaw. He tightens his hold on her.

"I'm sorry for the whipping you received."

She kisses his cheek, tasting his salty tears.

"I'm sorry for the pain you're always feeling."

She waits for him to open his eyes and look at her.

"I'm sorry for Katniss leaving."

He leans in closer.

"I'm sorry too." he whispers back.

And his lips finally meet hers.


	10. The Brink Of War

She spots him out in the woods one afternoon. He crouches quietly behind a bush and she wonders what he's up to. He seems to be waiting on something, peering above the leaves at an animal in the distance. She sees it too. A tiny, harmless little squirrel slowly makes it's way toward a strategically placed acorn. Gale tenses as the squirrel gets closer. Madge furrows her brows, wondering what Gale has planned, when-

_**SNAP!**_

Madge stifles a gasp. The poor animal has it's leg and part of it's tail caught in a trap. It struggles to free itself, but the more it tries, the more damage it's doing. The sharp claws that enclose it's leg tear off bits of fur and dig into it's bone. She hears the strangest sound emerge from it's mouth, a strangled sort of scream. It sends chills down her spine.

She watches Gale, waits for him to do something, to finish off the squirrel and put it out of it's misery. He gets up and walks over to the suffering animal. He stands a few feet away, crosses his arms, and leans against a tree, staring at the squirrel. A minute passes. Two minutes. The animal keeps struggling. He doesn't move. She doesn't know how he can stand it.

Then, she realizes. This isn't a quick and easy death meant to capture some meat and bring it back for dinner tonight. This is a game. A cruel, twisted game. He's letting it die a slow and painful death, trying to see how long the creature can last before it either bites it's own leg off or starves to death.

Gale doesn't flinch. He just stands there, straight-faced, watching.

And that's when the fear creeps in and stays there, hiding in a dark corner of her heart.

* * *

><p>At first he <em>seemed<em> a little different. But now...Now, she _knows_ he's different. Changed. Something about him, a little off.

Madge notices it in his voice. There's a slight edge to it, a harshness that wasn't there before.  
>And there's something missing too. Remorse. Compassion. Grief.<br>Yes, all his grieving is done. Over-with. Now, all that is left is dry anger. Arcane enmity.

It's beginning to come between them. She doesn't exactly know how to bring it up and discuss it. She's a little scared to mention anything to him.

That's something else that was never present in their relationship before: Fear. But now she feels it in bucket loads.

"Something wrong?" Gale asks after she's opened her door and he sees the distraught look on her face. She finds it hard to meet his gaze. "Madge?"

She shakes her head and hugs herself.

"It's nothing." She mumbles.

He eyes her some more, sensing there is something she's not telling him. He decides to let it go. If she wants him to know, she'll tell him eventually.

"I was hoping you'd take a walk with me." He says.

She looks up at him, hesitation in her eyes.

"Okay...sure." She bites her lip and closes the door behind her.

He waits for her to join him and they begin their stroll.

The silence surrounds them like a poisonous gas. She's afraid she just might start choking on it, when, finally, Gale clears his throat to speak.

"Madge, I..." He pauses for a moment, stopping her with his hand. "I don't know exactly how to say this..."

"What is it?" She asks him. Since when has conversation between them become so difficult?

"I've always taken pride in being able to control myself. No matter how terrible a situation was, I always managed to keep my cool. Even on that day when Katniss was first reaped, I had kept calm. I never let my inner emotions and feelings get the best of me." He explains, sighing and running his hands nervously through his hair. Madge waits for him to continue. "I'm finding that harder and harder to do lately. There's...there's an anger inside of me that I can't seem to rid myself of."

"Anger for what?" She asks shakily, her voice quiet.

"The Capitol. President Snow. The Games. Everything within me wants to fight, to exact revenge. I want to find a way to destroy those who have slowly been destroying all of us over the years."

She notices how his hands form tight fists at his sides. She doesn't tell him that she feels exactly same way, she just does a better job of hiding it.

"I can't sleep at night. Hate is all that consumes my thoughts. My mother tells me it's hopeless, that there's nothing anyone can do, but I can't seem to grasp that fact. There might be a possibility...I've been having ideas..."

His voice trails off, as if he's afraid of continuing on.

"What if...what if we made an army?"

"Who's we?" Madge asks, averting his intense gaze. Her heart thumps wildly in her chest.

"Us. The poorer districts."

_Oh, if only he knew how on point he was._

"We outnumber the capitol easily. All we need is a place to gather, some time to build weapons and traps, to create a plan..."

"Gale," she cuts him off. "Don't say such things. It's too dangerous to think this way." Although she knows that, if he were to go off and join such an army, she'd go along with him in a heartbeat.

"That's the thing, Madge!" He grasps her shoulders, forcing her to look up at him. "I can't stop. I don't want to. I can't help but think of how an idea like this could actually work."

She shakes him off, taking a few steps back.

"And what do you think you would do? Lead this 'army' of rebels?" She demands. He stays silent, watching her.

_I'm sorry, father. I can't hold this back from him anymore._

The truth rises up from inside of her, making it's way up her throat, ready to be spit out. She takes a breath, steadying herself.

"There's something I haven't told you." She says finally. Gale reaches out to touch her sleeve.

"What?"

"It's true. There _is_ an army."

* * *

><p>She suddenly realizes why she's been so scared. It isn't Gale who's been scaring her. It's his emotions, his anger, his frustration. She identifies with all of it.<p>

She's had her share of suffering by the hands of President Snow. Her own aunt, Maysilee, had died in the Games. Madge suspects this made a major contribution to her mother's current unstable and slightly insane mental state. Her father is constantly being dogged by Capitol officials and it's taking it's toll on him, she can tell. Katniss is going back a second time and no one's sure how much luck will be in her favor this round. Madge has grown up watching the people in her district practically starve to death.

The same hate that Gale has expressed to her has been bubbling and boiling inside of her for years. And though she's done her best to conceal it and put on an innocently calm demeanor, she's ready to blow.

But what happens when the both of them explode at the same time? What happens when the whole country is ready to burst? What kind of mass destruction will that lead to?


End file.
